


Choices

by Hypatia_66



Series: Early days [19]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Childhood Trauma, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Canon, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 14:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19725607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hypatia_66/pseuds/Hypatia_66
Summary: LJ Short Affair challenge. Prompts: shoe, redMr Waverly’s first encounter with his Russian protegé.





	Choices

<><><>

Waverly read the file on the recruit's childhood - obtained illicitly and still disturbing even in German translation: ‘Found wandering alone, origins unknown’, ‘put in a Displaced Persons camp’, ‘beaten for stealing food’, ‘beaten for insolence’, ‘taken into the care of the state’, ‘ran away’. Brought back for more beatings. Waverly blew his nose. Was the young man now such a problem that they wanted to be rid of him? More cheerfully, however, it continued: ‘fostered and sent to school’. After that, it seemed he had blossomed.

“You’ve treated children like this, Dr Sinclair,” he said. “Somehow separated from parents as a child, forced to survive in crowded cages in the heat of summer, or tents in the depths of winter, unwashed, without enough water or food, sick, beaten … vulnerable to so many dangers… What kind of effect does that have?”

“Being separated from parents is the worst thing for a child,” said the psychologist. “The negative effects on mental health are life-long. In Britain they are only now discovering the lasting damage suffered by the children of Londoners who were merely evacuated – taken away, with the best of intentions, from parents and friends and left with anyone who would take them. It seems that even being bombed is better for a child than being separated from its parents.”

Mr Waverly nodded.

“Depression has been the most obvious, permanent, effect, but also high levels of self-blame and self-criticism, difficulty in forming relationships, uncontrollable anger, that kind of thing.”

“Hm.”

“Of course, merely surviving trauma can generate resistance to being overwhelmed by events – it depends on the age of the child at separation and, of course, who subsequently looks after them,” said Dr Sinclair. “Only time will tell with individual cases.”

Waverly looked at the file before him. “In my experience,” he said slowly, “the effects of trauma are worse in old age, when long-dormant memories return…”

Sinclair pursed his lips and said casually, “You’ll be resisting retirement, then?”

Waverly shrugged. “I’ve seen how it affects people I served with in the trenches … But to return to this individual … he’s very unusual in having survived at all, let alone in being given the chance to develop his other qualities. I hope to meet him next week.”

<><><>

The encounter took place in Berlin, during a break in a meeting of the five Section Heads. “Welcome to UNCLE, Mr Kuryakin,” said Waverly, rising to shake hands. The young man had quite a grip, and glancing down he saw scars and the suggestion of damaged knuckles (from fights – or beatings?). He looked up again and smiled slightly.

The blue eyes remained cool though the lips smiled. “Thank you, sir,” he said.

“We require you to graduate successfully from Survival School before you can be accepted as an enforcement agent – but your record suggests that won’t be a problem."

“No, sir. It won’t,” he agreed. Not defiantly or boastfully, but quietly as if there never was any doubt. His accent was slight and not easily placed.

“Good. The current class is due back any day, so your transport to the island can now be arranged. It’s a long journey from here, I’m afraid.”

The boy, as Waverly couldn’t help thinking him, nodded and bowed slightly. “I am ready.”

“Have you any questions?”

Kuryakin hesitated. “I have now been told that I would be transferred to other sectors after Survival School, but not New York initially,” he said. “Is that so?”

“That is correct. You will probably return to Berlin in the first instance. After that we will discuss which other sectors need your talents.” Waverly looked at him from under his eyebrows and observed an intake of breath. “Do you wish to make a comment?”

There was a pause. “… No, sir.”

“Sure? Something you wish to make known before we decide?”

The blue eyes fell on the file in front of Waverly. “You know everything you need to know about me, sir.”

“Except, perhaps, what you desire?”

The boy flushed bright red, evidently not quite as self-confident as he tried to present himself, and stammered, “I desire nothing. My superiors said I might be working in the USA... I have researched American ways... ”

Waverly looked at him thoughtfully. Was that a challenge or just a request? he wondered. “That is the plan, and may well come to pass in due course,” he said. “There are political considerations, as I am sure you must be aware.”

The flush died; the eyes dropped.

“Of course.”

Waverly hesitated. “You have very unusual, indeed remarkable, qualifications – you will be of considerable value in Berlin and possibly London at the moment,” he said, and smiled at the young man’s look of surprise. Had no-one ever praised him before? “But I shall do my best to ensure that you come to work for me, eventually.”

“You know that I must return regularly to fulfil my commitments to the Soviet navy?” was his next remark. “I have no choice.”

“Quite so. You had to sign on for ten years, I believe?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Submarines, I see. Did you choose the navy?”

The young man spread his hands deprecatingly, unsure how much he should say about anything to do with his own country. “It was chosen for me,” he said finally.

“Have you not been able to make your own choices in life?” Waverly asked curiously.

Kuryakin looked up unguardedly and said, “Oh... I chose to survive, no matter what.” His face flamed again and he said quickly, “and I chose what subject I wanted to study, of course.”

“But would I be right in thinking that you didn’t volunteer for this posting?”

Now pale, Kuryakin was silent. He looked down at a scuffed shoe. “I go and I do what I am ordered.”

“So that’s a No, I take it.” Waverly’s tone was humorous but he added, more seriously, “You are a scientist. We have laboratories, too, you know. There is always room for agents who are also good scientists.”

This time the smile reached the blue eyes.

<><><><>


End file.
